


Freelance Good Guys: Good Job

by TheGreys (alienjpeg)



Series: Looming Gaia [30]
Category: Looming Gaia
Genre: Action/Adventure, Animal Death, Blood and Gore, Domestic Violence, Explicit Language, Fantasy, Friendship, Gen, Magic, Mild Sexual Content, Ogres, Team as Family, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:40:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25434796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alienjpeg/pseuds/TheGreys
Summary: Isaac receives his first solo contract. What could possibly go wrong on this long, quiet stretch of country road? Everything, apparently.
Series: Looming Gaia [30]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/833844
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Freelance Good Guys: Good Job

**Author's Note:**

> For concept art, discussions, memes and more, check out the Looming Gaia blog: https://loominggaia.tumblr.com/post/175087795478/looming-gaia-masterpost
> 
> This story pretty much speaks for itself. Enjoy. :)

_LATE SUMMER, 6007_

Isaac’s morning chores were many. The cows and chickens needed care, hay forked, manure raked, vegetable garden tended, and chamber pot emptied. Isaac saved the chamber pot for last, holding it at arm’s length as he carried it around the back of the house.

There was a large waste barrel sitting outside, topped with a lid. Isaac untwisted the lid and let out a long, weary groan. “Evan!” he called. “The septic’s full!”

After a moment, the small window beside him opened. Evan stuck his head out and said, “Well, take care of it then.”

“ _You_ take care of it! I did it last time!” argued Isaac, slamming the lid shut. The stench quickly dissipated.

“Just do it, will you? I have a lot of paperwork to catch up on.”

“I have stuff to do too!”

“Do you now?” Evan queried doubtfully.

“Yeah,” replied Isaac, voice cracking slightly. It always cracked when was lying. “I’ve got to, uh…”

“I haven’t assigned you any contracts this week, Isaac,” Evan reminded him flatly.

“I have a life outside of mercenary work, you know!”

Evan chuckled, “No, you don’t. None of us do. Now stop being a baby and get that shit out of here.” With that, he disappeared and closed the window.

“Hey! You said we’re not allowed to cuss in the house!” cried Isaac.

Evan quickly poked his head out the window again. With a cheeky smile, he said, “I cussed _outside_ the house.” And then he was gone, the window sliding shut once more.

Isaac stood there in the grass for a solid minute, fuming. “You’re the worst roommate ever! I’d rather live in the forest than live with you!” he shouted towards the window, then retrieved the wheelbarrow nearby. He strained and struggled to lift the heavy barrel, thinking bitterly about how much easier it was for Evan to do with his lycanthrope strength.

But no, apparently his muscle was needed for _paperwork_. Evan really had his head up his rear if he thought Isaac was his personal housekeeper, the young man thought. It was bad enough that the whole crew forgot his birthday last month—or at least the date they found him in that sarcophagus. Was he really such a wretch, to be treated so disrespectfully? The nerve!

Isaac groaned and cussed his way to the cesspit, located all the way on the other end of the village. The heavy load in his wheelbarrow made the trip much slower and more difficult than usual.

The cesspit was vast, wider than it was deep and covered by a segmented lid of planks. The stench was bad enough with the lids on, and Isaac gagged when he removed one to empty his barrel. Once a month, trolls from a nearby tribe arrived to empty it. They carried the waste back to their colony at the base of Frostbite Crag. What they were doing with it was anyone’s guess.

Jeimos and Olof had been blathering on and on lately about some plumbing system they were designing for the village. Isaac wished they would get on with it already, then this horrible chore would be a thing of the past.

*

After an hour, Isaac finished his final chore and returned home. He made a beeline for the water keg in the kitchen, vigorously scrubbing his hands as he shouted, “Septic’s empty! Wasn’t even my turn to do it, but I did it anyway! Just saying…!”

He expected a distant “Thank you!” from another room, but none came. Isaac glanced at the clock on the wall. Perhaps Evan was already in his office across the compound. He snagged the towel on the counter to dry his hands. As he did, he noticed a scrap of paper sitting beside it.

“TO ISAAC” was written at the top, scrawled in Evan’s bold handwriting. Below that was a crudely-drawn map of the mercenary compound, with various points of interest labeled. A red “X” was drawn on the forest south of the dining hall, as if marking some kind of treasure.

Isaac furrowed his brow at the note. What was this? Some kind of game? Or was Evan just tricking him into doing more chores? With nothing better to do, Isaac decided to find out for himself. He slipped his boots back on and walked out the door, heading down the main road to the plaza.

He faced the dining hall, then pulled up the map and reoriented himself towards the southern forest. Did Evan really expect him to crawl through the bushes like an animal? The thicket was impenetrable!

But when he moved closer, he noticed a narrow trail cutting through the brush. The grass was stamped down, not quite worn to dirt, as if the path were newly forged. Isaac followed it. It took him deep into untouched wilderness, where the canopy was so thick that it nearly blocked out the sun. After a short journey, he arrived at a shady little clearing where the grass had been cut short. A low, circular wall of stones surrounded the perimeter.

In the center of the clearing stood a wooden shack with a stone chimney jutting out from one side. Firewood was stacked high under an awning on the other side. A stone pathway led up to the front door, where an envelope was pinned.

Isaac looked all around, sweeping the area for danger before he approached the door. His name was written on the envelope. He plucked it off the door and tore it open, a metal key falling out into his palm. Surely he was meant to open the door?

Isaac always carried a utility knife on his belt. He kept one hand on its handle as he used the other to unlock the door. If seven years of mercenary work taught him anything, it was that there was no such thing as “too paranoid”.

The door opened with a creak. Isaac jumped a good three paces back, whipping the knife off his belt as five people ambushed him from inside.

“Surprise!” they cheered. Isaac froze, eyes rounding. He realized he was pointing a blade at his best friends, so he quickly put it away. Evan, Lukas, Glenvar, Alaine, and Jeimos were standing inside the shack with drinks in their hands.

“You guys scared the shit out of me,” he sighed. Then he rolled his eyes at Evan and added, voice dripping with sarcasm, “Oh, whoops! Sorry! Didn’t mean to cuss in the house!”

Evan just laughed, “What do I care? Your house, your rules.”

Isaac cocked his head. “Wait, what?” He glanced between all his friends, smiling back at him as if they were dying to share a secret.

“Guys, what is this?” he urged, looking around at the bare interior. “I didn’t even know this place was here!”

“It’s your house, dummy!” answered Alaine. “Happy birthday!”

“My house?” The young man’s eyes bugged. “Wait. No, you’re joking…”

“Ya think we’d spend this kinda gold on a joke, kiddo? Pff, get real! I gave up a month of booze fer this, so ya better like it!” said Glenvar.

Jeimos added, “We all pitched in to have this house built. Actually, it was meant to be your _sixteenth_ birthday present, but Mr. Olof was so backlogged that he only just finished it. We’re terribly sorry for the delay, Izzy. This place should have been yours a year ago.”

Isaac’s jaw dropped as he walked around the small perimeter, touching the plank walls as if he didn’t expect them to be solid. “This house is mine? It’s really, seriously mine? Guys, this—this is amazing! Look at it! It’s got a fireplace and everything!” He gestured to the stone hearth, then opened a door beside it. Beyond the door was a tiny room with a latrine. A chamber pot sat below the seat. “And an indoor toilet!”

With just a hint of smugness, Evan queried, “So, what were you saying this morning? Something about living in the forest?”

Isaac had no retort. He simply threw his arms around the man and hugged him tightly.

Evan patted his back and said, “You’re not a child anymore, and you’ve proven your independence to us time and time again, so I thought maybe it was time to let our little bird fly. I’m sorry it’s so small, but we can always expand it in the future.”

“No, it’s great!” Isaac assured him. “I really love it! Thank you so much, guys! I-I don’t know what to do first! Should I put a couch here?” He spread his arms against one wall. “Or like this?” He turned his arms to the side. “Wait, I could put a table here! This area will be the kitchen. I can have counters and cabinets over there—”

“And how are you going to pay for all this furniture?” asked Lukas, planting his hand on his hip. “Because I’m certainly not going to spot you. This house cleaned out my pockets as-is.”

“I’ll buy it myself!” Isaac told him. “I got two hundred GP in my safe. How much is a couch anyway? Like, fifty GP?”

“A small loveseat alone will run you three hundred, at least,” Lukas told him flatly. “And you’re not going to find one of those at Gwyneth’s market, so you’ll have to order it from a catalog, then pay a delivery fee on top of that.”

Isaac blurted, “Three hundred? Where am I supposed to come up with that kind of money? Oh my god, it’s gonna be _forever_ before I can move into this place!” He groaned, dragging his hands down his face.

Wearing a patient smile, Evan clapped a hand on his shoulder and told him, “Looks like you’ll have to pick up some extra jobs for a while, huh? Luckily for you, I just happen to have a special contract lined up.” He pulled a slip of parchment out of his pocket and handed it to Isaac.

Isaac unfolded it, reading aloud, “’ _Cargo must be delivered from Woodborne to Sodergen. Horse and cart provided by client. All theft and/or damages will be docked from reward payment up to the full amount. Reward: 200GP_.’”

Isaac lowered the paper with a sigh. “So, how many ways are we splitting this one?”

Evan’s smile persisted when he replied, “None. You’ll be taking this contract solo.”

“Huh? Really? You’re really gonna let me do this by myself?”

“We all had a long discussion yesterday,” began Jeimos, “and we’ve determined that you’re more than capable of handling a simple delivery job. The road to Sodergen is well-patrolled by the Folkvar Guard, so it’s really quite safe.”

Evan added, “Depending on how well this goes, I may have more solo contracts for you in the future.”

“That’s where the real money is, ya know,” Glenvar told him with a wink, sipping from the flask in his hand.

Folding the contract, Isaac tucked it into his own pocket and said, “Okay. Woodborne to Sodergen, no problem! When do I start?”

“Tomorrow morning,” said Evan. “Make sure to leave before sunrise to get the most out of daylight. The coastal road is quite safe, as Jeimos said. But as we all know, some things change after dark.”

*

Isaac sprang out of his hammock early the next morning, tore through his chores, and was soaring over the forest on Shadow’s back just as the first rays of sun peeked over the horizon.

He arrived in Woodborne in less than an hour. But his pace would be slower from this point onward, for he left the city with the burden of his cargo. The client passed off a horse and cart to him, loaded up with a heavy, wooden crate. The crate was big enough to fit another horse inside. Though he was curious, Isaac knew it was not his place to ask what was in it, and he set off on the northern road to Sodergen.

The old draft horse lumbered along, slowly dragging the cart behind it. Shadow walked beside the cart with Isaac on her back, and he held a lead attached to the horse’s reigns. At this pace, he estimated the trip would take a couple days, at least.

The road ran parallel with the Refuge River. Isaac could hear it babbling through the thicket, could occasionally see it through the dividing wall of forest. Hydriads—aquatic nymphs—patrolled the river’s edges. Isaac caught glimpses of them between the trees as they fussed about with the water; scooping out trash, reshaping the muddy shoreline, and tending riverside plants.

He could hear their soft chatter and melodic songs over the whispering river. Before long, he found a path cutting through the bushes that lead to the water. Isaac tugged Shadow’s reigns, leading both her and the horse to the river’s edge where they stopped to drink. The hydriads fled before he even arrived, disappearing under the surface.

Isaac’s eyes scanned the area for movement, his scythe clutched tightly in his hands. There was a time when he didn’t fear nymphs, back when he was a naïve child. Flora promised him long ago that the nymphs of Drifter’s Hollow would never harm him. But he was far from home now, well out of her jurisdiction.

Isaac grabbed Shadow’s harness as the roc suddenly lurched forward. “Shadow! No!” he scolded, but the roc was already waist-deep in the water. She helped herself to a bath, repeatedly dipping her head in and splashing Isaac when she shook it dry. She crowed with delight and flapped her wings against the surface, startling the horse with her great splashes.

The horse reared up, braying in fright before it trotted away from the shore. Isaac still had its lead looped around his wrist, and no time to react as he was pulled off Shadow’s back. He splashed down into the water with a shriek. The lead slipped out of his hand.

He quickly surfaced and sputtered, “God damn it! Shadow, out! Out, out, out!” He thrusted his finger towards the shore, where the horse was grazing further inland. Shadow took her sweet time, but eventually obeyed his command and stepped back onto dry land. She shook the water off her feathers and misted him one last time.

Isaac let out a weary sigh, grumbling obscenities as he searched for his scythe. He’d dropped it somewhere in the murk. Dry summers made the rivers low, and the water became so muddy that it was nearly opaque. He was standing chest-deep in it. Feeling around with his feet, all he encountered were rocks.

Surely the current wasn’t strong enough to carry his scythe away? How far could it have gotten? He felt a large fish brush against his thigh and jumped back. He soon realized it was no fish at all, for a head of shimmering, sea-green hair surfaced about two arms’ lengths before him.

The hair draped down a deeper green face, full lips stretched into a toothy smile. The creature looked like a cross between an elf and a sirene, with an elf’s pointed ears and a sirene’s webbed fingers. She was a hydriad, and though everything below her waist was obscured by the murk, Isaac knew her kind had two large flippers for feet, much like the feet of a frog.

They were not graceful creatures on land. But the hydriads were agile and powerful in the water, and Isaac was not happy to be in her domain. The hydriad’s voice was like a babbling creek when she asked him, “Did you drop this?” and then his scythe surfaced in her webbed grip.

Isaac’s eyebrows jumped. “Yeah, thank you,” he said, stepping towards her with his hand outstretched. The hydriad pushed herself out of his reach, gracefully swimming on her back as she examined the weapon.

“It’s such a pretty thing,” she mentioned, drifting around him in a wide circle. “Do you use it to spear fish?”

Isaac hesitated. “No. It’s for, uh, cutting grass,” he lied with a tell-tale voice crack. He reached towards her again. “Please, just give it back and I’ll get out of here.”

The hydriad shot him a devious little smile. She hugged the weapon’s handle against her chest and said, “But I _like_ it. Won’t you just give it to me?”

Isaac shook his head. “I can’t, sorry. I really need it,” he said cautiously. He knew one wrong move would either kill him or lose the weapon forever.

The nymph glanced between Isaac and the weapon, as if contemplating something. Then she made an offer, “If you want it back, you’ll have to trade something for it.”

Isaac sighed. “Alright. What do you want?”

He expected her to ask for gold or jewelry. Instead, she swiftly paddled up to him, placed a hand on his leather chestplate and said, “I want _you_.”

Isaac furrowed his brow. He should have known. Her naked body, her boldness before man, her vague request…She was a feral nymph of the wilderness. Nymphs like her took pride in their uncivilized way of life. They served Mother Gaia first and foremost, with no consideration for Her peoples.

Evan warned him about hydriads like these. “They’ll invite you into the river to bathe or make love,” Evan said. “But do not, under any circumstances, get in the water with them. They’ll pull you under and drown you!”

Isaac looked down at the muddy water lapping at his ribs. Well, so much for that advice.

Swiping at his neck, Isaac replied, “Uh…I have some money in my bag. Wouldn’t you rather have that? It’s gold and shiny, just like that thing.” He gestured to the scythe, just within his reach.

The hydriad jerked it behind her back and giggled, “What does a nymph need gold for? Just kiss me, you silly thing!”

With that, she crushed her lips against his and tackled him down into the water. Isaac thrashed his limbs and pushed her away. He opened his eyes, and he could just barely see her white smile through the swirling mud. Large, dark shadows circled around him—the silhouettes of other hydriads swarming him like a school of fish. They had likely been waiting by his feet this whole time, just itching to ambush him.

Isaac felt clawed fingers grasp at his shoulder. He tried to shrug it off, then two more grasped his ankles. Their chaos stirred up a thick cloud of mud, and then he couldn’t see a thing. He kicked, thrashed, and struggled with every muscle he had, but he could hardly move with each of his limbs in their clutches.

His lungs were burning just as badly as his eyes. He let out a desperate scream and his last breath left him in a stream of bubbles. Of all the thoughts to have in his last moments, Isaac couldn’t help but think about how disappointed his crew would be. Dying on his first contract? Failing a job so incredibly easy? Good riddance, they’d think. What a useless crewman he was!

Suddenly the hydriads’ fingers loosened around his limbs. They let go all at once, and he heard their muffled shrieks in the water. He thrashed his way back to his feet and surfaced with a gasp, swiping the dirt from his eyes. He blinked the blur away and saw a massive black figure in front of him.

Shadow stood in the water, flapping her wings madly at the fleeing nymphs. She blasted a long screech in their direction as they bolted down the river. Isaac could see their shadows zipping just under the water’s surface, ripples trailing in their wake.

Isaac panted, taking a moment to catch his breath and let relief wash over him. The feeling didn’t last long, as he just remembered his scythe. “Wait! No!” he cried, scrambling down the river after the hydriads.

But just behind him, Shadow dunked her beak in the river and fished something shiny out of the mud. Isaac waded slowly through the deep water, swimming helplessly against the current. Shadow overtook him in just a few big steps. He snatched her harness as she passed and climbed back into her saddle. He pointed a finger in the hydriads’ direction and shouted, “Shadow, go get—”

He command paused abruptly when Shadow craned her neck backwards. She was holding the scythe in her beak. Isaac stared at her for a moment, eyes wide. “Nevermind,” he said, snatching the weapon. “We’re even. Good birdie!” He affixed the scythe to his back harness and threw his arms around Shadow’s neck, scritching the downy fuzz below her feathers.

“Who scared the fish-ladies away? You did, yes you did!” he cooed at her for the better part of a minute. Shadow reveled in the scratches and praise, wriggling happily until he tugged her reigns and guided her back to shore. The horse had strayed further with the cart, but the cargo was still present and unharmed. He made his way back to the road.

The next time they stopped for water, he’d dismount his ride first. He knew this was just one of many lessons he’d learn the hard way going forward.

*

The air began to heat up as the sun rose higher. Isaac’s caravan left the shady forest and stepped out into a long stretch of open fields. The grass was pale with drought, small Folkvaran villages and farms spread across the landscape. Frostbite Crag jutted up from the horizon to the west. There was hardly a cloud in the sky, revealing the Crag’s elusive snowy peak that was normally surrounded by mist.

The road passed straight through an unmarked village, populated by fauns. Isaac mistook them for satyrs at first, but where the satyrs resembled goats, he recalled that fauns closer resembled deer. They were mostly fair of skin and pale of hair. Small antlers branched out from the heads of the men, and they all had furry, deer-like ears with white freckles on their cheeks and shoulders.

They were a tall, lean people. But they were not nearly as tall as the roshavan woman leaning against a wooden totem, sticking out like a sore thumb with her sky-blue skin and bright, foreign garb. She was smoking a pipe, possibly in the autumn of her life if the gray streaks in her hair were any indication. Her earlobes were stretched low by heavy, silver jewelry.

She looked Isaac’s way as he approached. She was not the only one to stare, for Shadow had caught every eye in the area. The villagers pointed and gawked, children giggling excitedly. Isaac simply waved at them from atop the roc’s back as he passed through.

He was forced to stop when the roshavan woman tucked her pipe away and blocked the path. She led a golden-haired yak by a lead, carrying a heavy load of cargo on its back.

“Hold on there, son! Are you a trader?” she called.

“No,” answered Isaac, “I’m just a delivery boy. I gotta get this thing up to Sodergen.” He pointed to the big crate in the cart beside him.

The roshava smiled, her brows arching high. “Well, you got quite a load there! Must be valuable, whatever it is.”

Isaac shrugged. “I have no idea. Whatever it is, I just move it.”

“Hold on a second,” said the roshava, and she reached her bottom set of hands into one of the packs hanging off her yak’s harness. She pulled out a leather case, about the size of Isaac’s head. “I’ve been in the trading business for over thirty years. I buy and sell a little of everything, and whatever’s in that crate, I want it. How much are you asking?”

Isaac’s brow wrinkled. “Uh, nothing. I’m not selling it.”

“Sure you are! Seriously, how much do you want for it?”

“Lady, this thing isn’t mine! I’m just the delivery guy. I’d get fired if I sold it.”

“Who says your boss has to know?” The roshava’s smile stretched wider. “Tell him bandits jumped you and took off with it. He can’t fire you for that.”

“But I don’t get paid unless it reaches Sodergen,” mentioned Isaac.

The roshava curled the finger of her top right hand at him. “Come here for a second,” she said. Isaac reluctantly slid out of his saddle and approached her. She leaned in close as she opened the case, just enough that he could peek inside.

Hundreds of platinum coins looked back at him, rolled up neatly in paper tubes. “I got ten thousand GP in this case,” the trader told him, “and you can have it all if you pass me that cart. It’s enough to pay for the horse, the cart, and surely your pay ten times over!”

Isaac’s jaw gaped at the sum in the case. Then he glanced back up at her and asked, “What if the cargo’s worthless?”

“Can’t be that worthless,” she replied. “They hired an armored punk on a roc to lug it all the way up the coast. Besides, I’m a gamblin’ woman. I’m willing to take my chances, and if I get a bad deal…” She shrugged. “Well, that’s just business. You win some, you lose some. But there’s no risk to you! Make this deal with me and you come out richer no matter what! What do you say?”

Isaac’s gaze settled back on the coins. The trader wasn’t wrong. He could easily tell Evan that he was ambushed by bandits, and there was no way the captain could punish him for that. He could imagine it now. “Well, thank the gods you’re alive! That’s all that matters,” Evan would say, and Isaac would use his ill-gotten riches to furnish his house, add some more rooms, perhaps build a pool out back…

On the other hand, the crew would lose their faith in him. They had trusted him to complete this one simple job, and he didn’t want to lose that trust any more than he wanted to embarrass himself by looking incompetent.

“Sorry,” Isaac decided, pushing the case closed. He spoke slowly, as if unsure of his own decision. “I really have to do this job right. I don’t want to disappoint my crew.”

“Ah,” the roshava mumbled, tucking the case under her arm. “Hunting for a promotion, are you? Smart boy. That’s thinking long-term.” She tapped the side of her head, then turned and slipped the case back into its bag. “Well, I’ll be here for the next couple days. You know where to find me if you change your mind.”

*

Though Isaac was hours passed the faun village, his mind kept wandering all the way back to the trader’s offer. There was little else to think about on this long, peaceful stretch of road. Pangs of regret tugged at his arm like a child, begging him to jerk the reigns, turn around and reconsider. Then he thought about the guilt he’d feel every time he faced his crew, and it was that guilt which kept him moving northward towards Sodergen.

Surrounding this stretch of road were open areas of grassland, made dry by the season, and clusters of short conifers. The land rolled up into steep hills layering behind one another, putting Isaac in mind of a bunched-up blanket. He crossed paths with countless birds, rodents, deer, and the occasional fox. Except for travelers he passed on the road, there were no peoples to be found here.

It was perhaps three hours after high sun before Isaac found a shred of civilization. A modest, two-story log building stood on the roadside, its windows glowing orange with life. Several horses were hitched up in front of it, including a few white Folkvaran war horses. The sign above the door read “Elkwatch Inn and Tavern”.

Isaac’s canteen was getting light. He was reluctant to stick his hands anywhere near the river, so he decided he’d head into the inn for some food and drink. He considered hitching Shadow with the horses, but there simply wasn’t enough room for her massive bulk. He dismounted her on the opposite side of the road and hitched her to a tree instead.

He fastened the draft horse’s lead to her harness, stroking her beak as he told her, “I’ll only be gone for a minute. Guard the cart, okay?”

Shadow tilted her head, letting out a low, wary crow. She watched Isaac cross the road and disappear into the inn. He stepped right into the bar area, the air thick with cigar smoke and loud with chatter. Isaac heard many languages being spoken, saw peoples of many species interacting with one another over steins of rich Folkvaran mead.

A good chunk of the patrons were Folkvaran soldiers, easily identified by their metal armor all lined with fur and red motifs. The rest seemed to be travelling traders and migrants from Serkel. Isaac recognized the course yet melodic tongues spoken around the Serkel Desert.

He sat down on a creaky stool at the bar counter. A human barmaid soon approached him and asked, “Mead, sir?”

“Just water, please,” Isaac told her, passing his canteen over the counter. “What do you got to eat around here?”

“Oh, the usual things. Butter cakes, pudding, _brodfesk_ —”

Isaac raised an eyebrow. “ _Brodfesk_? What’s that?”

“Traditional Folkvaran dish,” she answered, tucking her ashen hair behind her ear. “It’s raw anchovies and melted cheese on a slice of bread.”

Isaac recoiled. “People _eat_ that?” he asked.

With a shrug, the barmaid answered, “Aquarians are crazy about it. But if I were you, I’d get our dinner special. It’s a piece of grilled whale steak with pickles and a side of potatoes. You’ll love it, trust me!”

“Uh, sure. I’ll have that then.”

The barmaid disappeared into a back room with his empty canteen. Before long, she returned with a full canteen and a heavy plate of food. It was far more than Isaac expected, enough to stuff a centaur’s twin stomachs. Fluffy red potatoes hugged a slab of whale meat, with three large pickle spears arranged neatly on the side. The meat was still sizzling when the barmaid set it before him.

Isaac glanced back at the door. He only meant to grab a quick bite, but this was going to take a while. Shadow would be fine out there, he reasoned. Who was really going to mess with a creature like her? Only a fool would attempt to steal her, and she’d rip any such fool to shreds anyway. There was no better guard for that cargo.

The food was rich and savory. By the end of the hour, Isaac only made his way through half of the plate and his stomach would accept no more. He loosened his belt with a groan, sounding equal parts satisfied and regretful, and called for the barmaid. She slapped his bill on the counter and wandered off to serve another patron.

A satchel dangled off Isaac’s hip, containing just a small sum of money for the odd snack or emergency. He was already reaching into it as he plucked the bill off the counter. His breath stopped, eyes rounding when he saw the total. Someone must have made a mistake.

He furrowed his brow and examined it closer, reading the number several times over. “Ma’am?” he queried, waving at the barmaid. “I think you might have put an extra zero on my bill…”

Wiping down a stein, the barmaid didn’t pay him a glance as she replied flatly, “Don’t pull that shit with me, kiddo. Not even our boys in red get discounts here.”

*

Two hours later, Isaac left the inn with raw hands and an empty satchel. His gold didn’t quite cover the total, so he worked the rest off by washing dishes. The work was disgusting and the other dishwashers taunted him all the while, but finally, he was ready to get back on the road.

Or perhaps not.

“Shadow! Oh my—what? _What happened_?” the young man gasped, jaw gaping at the grisly sight lying across the road. There was Shadow, sitting contentedly on top of the cargo with blood all over her face. Blood and gore was strewn around the area, leading up to the eviscerated remains of the horse lying beside the cart. The poor creature was very much dead.

“What did you fucking _do_?” Isaac screeched as he bolted across the road. He recoiled at the stench of blood when he approached, face blanching at the horrible corpse. He shielded his nose with his arm and coughed, “Ugh! Shadow, bad! This is very, very bad! Bad bird! No, no, no…!”

The roc simply cocked her head at him as he anxiously paced around the area, trying to figure out what to do. Finally, he stopped and scrubbed his hands over his eyes. He tangled his fingers up in his hair as he looked at Shadow, wearing a look on his face that made her nervous. She rumbled a small crow and sheepishly jumped off the crate, ducking behind the cart.

It was no use. Soon, the roc found herself tethered to the front of the cart. She pulled the heavy load along as the horse once had, and she was hating every moment of it. She rumbled angry sounds and flapped her wings in defiance every so often, but Isaac only told her, “It’s your own fault, Shadow! If you don’t like it, you should have thought of that _before_ you ate our client’s horse! You know better!”

This would surely be taken out of his reward. No matter, he thought. An ancient, swaybacked nag like that was hardly worth much, and it wasn’t like he was splitting the reward with anyone else. There would still be plenty of gold left over.

The road took a steep downturn, cutting through a thick cluster of trees below. Isaac welcomed the long stretch of shade, but he did not welcome the two strangers suddenly blocking his path.

Two burly, male ogres lumbered out of the thicket with heavy stone clubs in their hands. They outweighed even the gorillas in the Midland Jungle, and their physiques were quite similar. But rather than fur, the ogres had rough, leathery brown hides. Large tusks curved out from each of their jaws, conveniently sawed and filed short. The tusks weren’t long enough to get in their way, but definitely long enough to impale an Isaac-sized human.

Isaac quickly drew the scythe off his back, standing tall in his saddle. One of the ogres growled, his voice like tumbling rocks, “Your cargo or your life! Choose quickly or we’ll choose for you!”

“Are you kidding me?” Isaac barked back. “You guys picked the wrong day! I am _not_ in the mood for this! You have five seconds to get out of my way or you’ll be sitting in her belly!” He nodded down towards Shadow, already regarding the strangers with a low, threatening crow.

One of the ogres let out a hearty laugh. He slammed his club against the ground, demonstrating his power. It destroyed the packed earth and left a crater about half the size of Shadow’s head. “You got it backwards. We’ll club that bird dead, carve her up, ‘n roast her good,” he sneered. “Don’t play stupid games, kid. Why don’t you just walk away before you win a stupid prize?”

Isaac’s confidence waned. Most people were wary of Shadow from a distance, but these two hadn’t a bit of fear even at beak’s length of her. Working together, these behemoths probably could overpower Shadow, and then they would surely overpower Isaac.

He could quietly detach Shadow from the cart and walk away from this without a scratch. He imagined returning to Drifter’s Hollow and breaking the news to his crew: that he was ambushed, that he failed to defend the cargo, that he forfeited the job and his pay…

“Why don’t you kiss my ass?” the young man snapped back, then took a running leap off Shadow’s head. He raised his scythe high and brought it down as he hit the road. The ogres dashed and rolled out of his path, and his scythe struck nothing but dirt.

Isaac raised it again in an instant, taking a swing to the left. The bandit raised his club to block it. His eyes rounded as the blade cut right through, as if the stone were nothing but a blade of grass.

Before Isaac could swing his weapon again, the second bandit swatted him away with his heavy tail. Isaac tumbled across the road. He kept his scythe in a tight grip, finally rolling to a stop when he hit a tree.

Shadow shrieked furiously, raising her wings high and puffing out her feathers. Attached to the cart, she wasn’t so swift as she lunged at one of the ogres. He dodged her beak with ease and took a bluff-swing at her head, trying to intimidate her. It took a lot more than that to scare away Shadow, and she blasted a monstrous shriek right in his face, so offensive to his ears that the ogre stumbled away in pain.

Isaac rose to his unsteady feet, dazed by the strike. He saw one ogre distracting Shadow while the other made his way around the side of the cart. The second ogre raised his club and struck one of the wooden shafts attached to the roc’s harness. It splintered and broke under the force.

Just as he made his way around to the other side, Isaac bolted towards the first ogre with a furious shout. The ogre glanced back at him, and with his club cut in two, struck Isaac with his fist. It knocked the wind from Isaac’s lungs and the scythe from his hands, batting him a long distance down the road.

Isaac sailed through the air and landed on his back. The world turned white for a moment. He gasped for air towards the blurry canopy above, frozen in place by shock. Stars twinkled in his vision for far too long, leaving Shadow outnumbered as she valiantly continued the fight. She was partially detached from the cart with one shaft broken. It dragged behind her awkwardly, slowing her down and nearly tripping her when she rushed one of the bandits.

The bandit simply rounded the side of the cart and stayed behind it. Shadow’s dumb animal brain struggled to reason its way around such a predicament. The cart wouldn’t turn as sharply as she wanted it to, so she rammed herself against it, tipping it on its side and toppling the crate onto the road. Her right wing became tangled in her loose reign, her talon caught in a wheel.

“Ah, for Gaia’s sake! Now it’s stuck to the cart!” one of the ogres growled. Shadow flapped her wings madly, still crowing and snapping at them. There was no way to safely approach her or the cart.

“Just keep its beak busy for a second and I’ll put it down,” said the other, slapping his club against his palm.

“No!” Isaac wailed, and just a second later he launched himself onto the bandit’s back. In his haze, in his haste, he couldn’t be bothered to grab the scythe laying further down the road. Instead, he drew a hidden dagger out of his boot and jammed it against the bandit’s neck.

He expected the blade to simply plunge in, and then he would jerk it through the jugular for a quick death. But the ogre’s hide was so thick, so tough and leathery that the dagger barely pierced a fingertip’s length through it. Isaac was stunned by its resistance, then stunned further when the ogre snatched him by the hair and threw him over his shoulder like a ragdoll.

The young man cried out in pain as he slammed against the ground. He gnashed his teeth, clutching his stinging scalp. Tears welled in his eyes. But he would not cry, he decided, and forced himself up with a growl. He scrambled forward on all fours, darting between the ogre’s legs like an animal, then dived out of the second ogre’s reach before rolling towards his scythe.

He snatched it off the ground and nearly tripped as he lunged back towards the bandits, raising the weapon high. The bandits braced themselves, but Isaac simply ran right passed them and sliced through Shadow’s reigns instead.

In an instant, the roc was free, and she raised her wings above her head with a mighty caw. Isaac climbed onto her saddle with practiced grace, then pointed his scythe at the bandits and shouted, “Shadow, atta—”

“Stop, stop, that’s enough! Good gods, kid!” one of the ogres told him, raising his callused palms in defeat.

The other agreed, “You’re a spongy little human, but you fight like an ogre. No fear. I respect that.” He tapped the other ogre’s shoulder and said to him, “Let’s let ‘im go. Cart’s busted anyway. Ain’t worth the time to lug that crate on our backs.” He tipped his head towards the toppled cart, lying there with a severed shaft and a broken wheel.

Just like that, the two lumbered off back into the shadows from where they came. Isaac watched them go, silenced by confusion and disbelief. Slowly the adrenaline waned, and only then did the aches of the battle sink in.

Isaac winced, groaning in pain as he slid off the roc’s saddle once again. He planted his hands on his hips and stared at the cart for a long moment. The front right wheel was detached completely. He’d never replaced a cart wheel before, but he’d watched his crewmates do it dozens of times.

After much trial and error, and several hours of fighting and cussing his way through the job, Isaac finally stepped back to examine the fruits of his labor. The cart was turned upright again, the wheel finally holding in place. He was streaked with dirt and damp with sweat, muscles weak and aching. Still, Isaac had a heavy workload ahead of him.

He managed to re-attach Shadow’s reigns to the shaft by fastening a stick to the broken end, tying it in place with long grasses. Terrible as it looked, it would do the job. But there was still the matter of the crate lying on the side of the road. Somehow, he had to get it back in the cart.

His client had probably used a crane or some draft animals to accomplish this. Isaac had neither. All he had to work with was a giant bird, so he pulled the back wall of the cart down on its hinges, forming a ramp, and backed the cart up towards the crate. Then he took Shadow’s reigns and led her behind it.

Slightly out of breath, he pointed to the cargo and said, “Okay, we just need to get this thing…” He redirected his finger towards the cart. “…into that thing.”

Shadow tilted her head at the crate, trying to understand. Rocs were remarkably intelligent animals, but they were still only as competent as their handlers. She reached one talon out and scratched her claws against the crate.

“Not like that!” cried Isaac. Planting her foot back on the ground, she began pecking at the crate with her beak, leaving large indents in the wood. Isaac grabbed her harness. “Quit it, that’s not helping either! Ugh…” He scrubbed at his eyes, leaving a smear of dirt on his face. After a moment, he got an idea.

Isaac climbed on top of the crate, hooking his legs over its edge. He clapped his hands, then spread his arms wide and forced a joyful, bright tone when he cooed, “Come here, Shadow! Gimme cuddles!”

The bird perked up and rushed towards him excitedly, shoving her head against his belly. He grabbed her bridle and encouraged her, “Good girl! Aww, nice birdie! Come on, more cuddles! Kiss, kiss, kiss!”

Shadow was already obeying his command, so her animal brain figured she must simply obey it harder. She pushed further and further against him, inadvertently shoving her chest against the crate. Isaac’s plan worked like a charm. Once the crate slid up the ramp, he jumped down and closed the back door behind it.

He fastened Shadow’s harness back to the shafts. Once he was back in her saddle, he stroked her neck and told her, “I’m sorry I yelled at you today, girl. It was my own fault…I should’ve fed you before I left you alone with that horse.”

He looked up at the sky through the canopy of leaves. He spent too much daylight wrestling with the cart, and now it was already getting dark. He guided Shadow down the road, figuring they should at least get out of the forest before they called it a night. Anything could be lurking in the trees, and Isaac knew the night brought out things more fearsome than any ogre.

*

Shadow dragged the cart off the road and through the grass, stopping only when she reached the top of a large hill. The location gave them an ideal vantage point to watch for enemies. There was no hiding Shadow and the cart, but Isaac managed to obscure himself behind some bushes nearby.

He took off his armor and changed into cotton underclothes. Pulling his bedroll off the roc’s harness, he laid it out in the bushes and collapsed onto its soft, furry embrace. He knew if anything tried to mess with them, Shadow would sense them well before they made it to the top of the hill. She’d make a loud fuss and wake him, giving him enough time to grab the scythe laying by his side and spring into action.

That was how it worked in his head anyway. In reality, Isaac woke a few hours later to a foreign sound in the camp. The sky was still dark, stars twinkling in the clear sky above. He shot upright and squinted in the darkness. By the light of the dying fire, he could just barely make out three feminine silhouettes crowded around Shadow.

Isaac swiped his scythe and jumped to his feet. “Hey!” he shouted. The air erupted with several shrieks, which died down to excited giggles. Three maenads turned towards him—nymphs of spirit—and their pink eyes glittered in the starlight. He saw their white smiles flashing as they laughed.

“Oh, there’s a man!” one of them observed.

Another said to Isaac, “I’m sorry, we didn’t mean to scare you!”

Taking a cautious step forward, Isaac asked, “Who are you?” He glanced up at Shadow, who was enjoying pats and kisses from one of the nymphs. Some guard she was, he thought. Each of the maenads was holding a golden amphora. They were clad in thin dresses that left little to the imagination, wrists and fingers gleaming with fine jewelry.

One of the maenads approached him. “We mean no harm, I promise! We’re just travelling revelers, that’s all. We saw your campfire on top of the hill and thought there might be a party.”

“Slumber party, maybe,” Isaac replied groggily. “I’m sorry, ladies, but—”

“We just love your bird! She’s so friendly!” said another, scratching Shadow’s neck. The roc leaned into her touch with a pleased crow.

“Shadow, you were supposed to be guarding the camp!” the young mercenary scolded.

The situation was a lost cause. He slapped a hand over his forehead and dragged it down his weary face. He couldn’t look more like an idiot in front of these women if he tried, standing barefoot in his dirty pajamas with an enchanted scythe in his hand and a guard animal that only obeyed him at her convenience.

“Animals have a strong intuition,” the maenad said, petting the roc’s smooth beak. “She knows we’re not here to cause trouble.”

The maenad closest to Isaac held her amphora out to him. With a flirtatious toss of her hair, she said, “We’re just looking for cute guys to party with. You’re pretty cute yourself. Won’t you share a drink with us?”

Isaac was taken aback by her offer, staring down at the amphora. “Uh,” he cleared his throat and pushed it away, “no, thanks. I’m in the middle of a job.” He pointed his elbow towards the cart behind her.

He jumped when he felt a pair of hands on his shoulders. A second maenad sneaked up from behind and cooed into his ear, “You shouldn’t work so hard. It’s bad for you, you know. Causes all kinds of _tension_ …” She massaged deeper into his shoulders, working muscles that Isaac didn’t know he had, much less realized were bunched up like knotted rope.

The first maenad sipped from her amphora, then offered it to him again. “Come on,” she pleaded, “we promise we’re not thieves or tricksters! We just love a good time, but all the men around here look like trolls’ feet!” She traced a slender finger along Isaac’s jaw. “This place is a desert. But you’re a cool drink of water, handsome!”

Isaac fell silent in contemplation. These nymphs were clean, well-dressed, and they spoke with strong local accents—all signs that they were people of the civilized world, not feral beast-women like their hydriad sisters in the Refuge River. They were also fae, and if no fae could tell a lie, then their intentions must have been true to their word.

He felt the second nymph’s breath on his ear as she whispered, “Please? Don’t leave us cold and alone tonight…” Isaac shuddered, longing to lean into her touch as she dragged her tongue from his neck to his earlobe.

The other two maenads closed in around him in a fit of giggles. They pulled him down into the grass, his scythe falling absently from his grip. One of them locked him in a passionate kiss as the other two tugged at his clothes. Isaac felt the buttons on his shirt pop open, one by one. The night air was warm, the maenads’ touch felt so good, their scents intoxicating…

He recalled a pleasure like this once before, and then he recalled the horror that followed. Red Orchid’s sinister laugh echoed up from the depths of his mind.

Isaac’s eyes suddenly snapped open. He pushed the kissing maenad off of him and shot upright, seizing the feminine hand that found its way down his pants. He threw her down by her wrist and then shoved the third maenad away before swiping his scythe. He held it in the crook of his arm as he stood up and hastily buttoned his shirt.

The maenads picked themselves up, throwing confused glances at eachother before one said, “Hey! What’s your problem?”

“You have to go. All of you,” Isaac told her. His voice quivered slightly.

“But we were just starting to have fun!” whined another.

The third said, “You’re just nervous! Have some wine, it’ll settle your poor nerves!”

Isaac thrusted a finger towards the road. “I said ‘go’! I won’t tell you again, now get outta here!” he growled.

The trio of nymphs hesitated, sharing offended murmurs between them. Finally, they gathered their amphoras and left in a huff, making their way back down the hill. Isaac waited until they disappeared down the long, dark, road before returning to his bedroll.

He sat down and dropped his scythe beside him, then dropped his head in his hands. Why did he send them away? Those ladies were no threat. They even left peacefully. His outburst surprised even himself, leaving him to stew in his regret for a long, miserable moment.

“What is wrong with me?” he murmured. If his crewmen heard about this, he’d never hear the end of it. Any one of them would have jumped at the chance to drink and consort with an orgy of revelers. Though Isaac’s brain determined he was safe, his heart still filled with dread the moment their passions burned hot. Too hot for him, evidently.

He couldn’t stand to stew in this angst any longer. He had a few hours of rest behind him, and he decided that was good enough as he began to pack up his camp. Judging by the moon’s position, it was probably an hour or two after midnight. The sun would rise in just a few hours, and he could make up for all the time he lost fixing the cart.

Another patch of trees lie ahead, possibly hiding all kinds of animals and miscreants. As they got closer, Isaac could see a figure standing on the side of the road. His lantern dangled off Shadow’s harness. Isaac unfastened it and raised it high, lighting up the pale face of a raven-haired elfenne.

She waved at him before approaching. Isaac kept his scythe in hand, but did not raise it. Her arms were hugged tightly around herself, eyes darting about anxiously. She was wearing a short, silken dress and high-heeled shoes—far from ideal clothing in this rural environment. Her black hair was pulled into two conical buns atop her head, resembling a cat’s ears.

“Sir! Please, sir, I-I’m so sorry to bother you, but…!” she called. She stopped half-way towards him, knees pressed together as if she were afraid to come any closer.

Isaac tucked his scythe into his back harness. He waved his hand to beckon her over and asked, “Do you need help?”

“Yes, please! I s-stayed out a little too late and—and I…” the elfenne seemed flustered, choking on her own words. She pointed towards the dark forest of trees further down. “I live that way, in the forest, but I hate to walk through there alone! Can you, um, I mean, if it wouldn’t trouble you…?”

Isaac grinned. He tipped his head towards the cart behind him and told her, “Just climb in back. I’ll take you home, no problem.”

“Oh, thank you! Thanks so much!” she gasped, then wasted no time climbing in the cart. She struggled in her shoes, slipping down with a shriek once or twice before simply pulling the shoes off altogether.

She tossed the shoes in the cart first, then clumsily toppled in after them. Isaac tried not to laugh as he watched her. “You, uh…just move out here?” he asked. She obviously wasn’t a country-girl.

They began rolling down the road. The elfenne hesitated before answering, “Well, um, sort of. My father and I moved here from Taybiya a few years ago.”

“Taybiya?” Isaac whipped his head towards her, quirking an eyebrow.

That filthy, backwater city was the last place he expected. Sketchy mutants like Itchy came from Taybiya, not high-class, well-spoken women like her. Her accent was not Taybiyan or Folkvaran. In fact, Isaac couldn’t place it at all. It seemed almost dated, archaic in a way.

The elfenne nodded, anxiously curling a lock of hair around her finger. “Y-yes. Oh! Gosh, um, I forgot to ask your name! How rude, I-I’m sorry!”

“It’s okay. I’m Isaac,” he told her. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Lilian. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Isaac. Thank you again for helping me, that’s very kind.”

“Don’t mention it. I was passing through anyway.”

After a brief pause, Isaac looked back at her again and added, “It’s pretty dangerous out here, you know. I almost got robbed in broad daylight just a ways back. What were you doing? You weren’t all alone, were you?”

Once again, Lilian seemed reluctant to answer. “I was—I-I was alone, yes. I was just working, that’s all. My father says I can’t come home until my work is done, so, um, sometimes I stay out later than I mean to.”

Her answer didn’t sit right with Isaac. Where could she possibly ‘work’ out here? There wasn’t a shred of civilization in sight, and she didn’t exactly look the part to be a hunter or a woodcutter.

“Ah. What do you do for a living way out here in the sticks?” asked Isaac.

“I gather food,” she said vaguely.

“Food—like, berries? Mushrooms, stuff like that?”

“Sometimes.”

Isaac waited, but she did not elaborate further. She was clearly a shy girl. Though he knew elves did not age the same way humans did, he could tell by her awkward demeanor that she probably wasn’t much older than he was.

“I see,” he said. “So, you live with your papa? He should be out here helping you.”

“He’s much too busy. His work is very important, so I’m to do all the lowly chores.”

“Yeah, I hear you there. It’s the same at my place…” Isaac mumbled with a roll of his eyes. “The old man made me empty the septic the other day, even though it was _his_ turn. He always tells me ‘It’s so easy, Isaac, stop whining and do it!’ Well, if it’s so easy, why doesn’t he just do it?”

Lilian leaned her elbows on the edge of the cart. “That’s a really awful chore,” she said. “I don’t like doing it either, but I’m not to complain. Mist—um, my father always knows best, even if I’m too foolish to see it. He loves me and takes good care of me. I’m sure your father has his reasons too.”

The wrinkle in Isaac’s brow softened. He let out a heavy sigh and said, “You’re right. He’s annoying sometimes, but I know he cares about me. I mean, he _did_ just drop a ton of gold on a house for me, so I guess I should cut him some slack.”

Lilian perked up a bit. “A house? Of your very own?”

“It’s just a tiny shack,” Isaac admitted. “But yeah, it’s all mine! I still gotta buy all the furnishings myself. That’s why I’m running this job.” He swept his hand towards the cart. “God, I can’t wait to be outta his house. Great guy and all, but he drives me insane sometimes…He won’t let me keep pets because he says they’ll make a mess. Meanwhile he sheds all over the place, pisses on the latrine seat, and eats all my snacks no matter where I hide them. He just sniffs them out like a hound, it’s unbelievable!”

Lilian threw a hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles. “Oh, wow! I mustn’t keep pets either. My father says they’ll only distract me. If I could, I think I would want a bird. Er, not like this one,” she waved towards Shadow, “but a little one. I would keep it in a beautiful golden cage where it would be safe.”

Isaac shook his head at the roc and muttered, “Some days I wish I could stuff _this_ one in a cage…”

“Oh, we’re almost at my house! Just turn at that big rock up ahead.”

Isaac raised his lantern. Its warm glow illuminated the path ahead, reflecting off a boulder jutting up from the thicket. When they got closer, he discovered a narrow path branching off the main road and followed it.

The path led them to a small cottage of stone and wood, partially obscured by bushes and overgrowth. Had Lilian not mentioned it, Isaac would have never discovered it on his own. Lilian tossed her shoes out of the cart before climbing out. She cried out as she slipped and fell in the dirt.

Isaac jumped off Shadow’s back, rushing to help her back to her feet. She looked down at the filth on her hands and knees with dismay. Isaac reached out to help her brush the dirt away, then thought better of it. It wouldn’t be appropriate. If she were one of his crewmen, he’d very well spit on his palm and wipe it off. Instead, he simply picked up her shoes and walked her to the door.

Lilian took her shoes from him and tipped her head in a polite bow. “Thank you very much, Mr. Isaac. I had so much fun visiting with you! Please, won’t you come in for something to eat? My father would so love to meet you.”

Isaac opened his mouth to decline, but the ‘no’ was caught in his throat. Lilian seemed like a sweet person. She was polite and soft-spoken, enchantingly beautiful, and utterly endearing to him.

He really didn’t want to leave so soon. Besides, he hadn’t eaten a proper meal since he left the Elkwatch Inn yesterday. He’d been overly-cautious with the maenads earlier and it left him full of regrets…

Maybe a quick rest wouldn’t be a bad idea.

“Sure,” he agreed. “Just give me a minute to take care of my bird.” With that, he returned to the cart and began detaching Shadow from the shafts. If she saw a tasty deer, the last thing he wanted was for her to tip the cargo over again trying to chase it. Before he left the roc’s side, he whispered, “ _Behave_ ,” and then followed Lilian inside the house.

She hit the door with twelve slow knocks before entering. Isaac thought that strange considering it was her own house, until she turned to him and said, “I’m sorry, I just want to make sure everyone’s decent before bringing a stranger over.”

They stepped into a small, dimly-lit sitting room. The furnishings were simple and a bit run-down, not at all what Isaac expected given Lilian’s classy outfit. Melting candles flickered away along the mantle above the fireplace.

“Mi—um, Father! I’m sorry I’m so late! We have a guest!” Lilian called. She clasped her hands before her, turning to Isaac with a pleasant little smile. Isaac couldn’t help but stare. He could see her better now in the candlelight, and she truly was stunning in an enchanting, almost otherworldly way. Even for an elf, her fair skin seemed just a bit too flawless. Her brown eyes sparkled like gemstones, not a strand of hair out of place on her head.

She was like a porcelain doll, thought Isaac. A creature not born, but crafted with intention in every feature. He then turned his attention to a new figure who stepped through a doorway, a bronze-skinned elf with the same gleaming, jet hair as Lilian. It spilled down his shoulders in graceful waves, and he was wearing a fine evening robe of black and gold. Suede slippers covered his feet.

The elf’s piercing brown eyes fixated on Isaac, stealing his breath away with just a glance. He was as flawlessly beautiful as Lilian was. His voice was smooth as glass when he said, “So we do. Welcome to our humble home, young man. You may call me Mr. Dusk.” He stepped forward and offered his hand for a shake.

Isaac accepted it with a nervous smile. “Hello, Mr. Dusk, sir. My name’s Isaac. You must be Lilian’s father.”

Mr. Dusk simply made a noise of acknowledgment, then turned to Lilian and said, “Hm. So she’s been talking about me, has she?”

“All good things,” Isaac assured him.

Lilian added, “Isaac walked me home through the scary forest. He’s very nice. I thought, um, maybe we could have dinner with him?”

A calm smile spread over Mr. Dusk’s face. “Ah, of course,” he said, sweeping his hand towards a door near the back of the room. “I am grateful for your kindness, Isaac. Go ahead and wash while Lilian and I set the table. We can all have a lovely meal together.”

Isaac crouched to untie his boots, unwilling to track mud through their home. “Great, thanks! And, uh, sorry if I woke you up or anything.”

“Not at all, my boy,” Mr. Dusk chuckled. “I’m a bit of a night-owl.”

The washroom was larger than Isaac expected. A rectangular wooden washtub sat against one wall, a table with a water basin against the other, and an empty bucket below. A shelf was stocked with rags and dry bars of soap. Isaac took off his armor and used a rag to sponge-bathe himself until he smelled more like soap than body odor.

Evan always told him that wearing armor at the dinner table was rude, so he left his armor on the counter and walked out of the washroom in his casual tunic and pants underneath.

By the time he did, the table in the sitting room was set neatly with plates and goblets. There Lilian waited, wearing a different dress than before. Her father was seated beside her, having changed into a casual black suit.

Isaac was struggling to believe these people were from Taybiya. Perhaps he was just being ignorant, he thought as he sat down across from them. He picked up his fork, then noticed his plate was empty. So too were Mr. Dusk and Lilian’s.

“So, what are we eating?” he asked.

There were two bottles of wine on the table. Mr. Dusk picked one up, filling his and then Lilian’s goblet as he replied, “We’ll get to that soon enough. First, let us enjoy some wine together. Dear girl, please pour some of the special reserve for our guest.”

Lilian obeyed, filling Isaac’s goblet from the second bottle. It was shorter and tinted green, while the other was tinted red. Neither bottle had a label, so Isaac could only assume they were bootleg recipes. Perhaps that’s what Mr. Dusk’s “work” entailed.

Isaac knew better than to ask about that, so instead he said, “It’s a nice place you guys have here. Must be real quiet.”

“Quiescence is a luxury greater than gold,” Mr. Dusk told him after a sip of wine. “Lilian and I had some _unsavory_ experiences that drew us to this simple life. I suppose it all worked out for the best.”

“I bet. She told me you were from Taybiya. I’ve run a few jobs there myself; that place is crazy!” mentioned Isaac.

Mr. Dusk paused, goblet hovering half-way to his lips. He then lowered it and sunk his gaze heavily upon Lilian. The elfenne bunched her shoulders, averting her own eyes as she busied her mouth with her goblet.

“Lilian,” her father began calmly, though Isaac couldn’t help but notice the sharp edge in his tone, “have we not discussed this before? It isn’t _polite_ to spill our life stories onto strangers.”

“I-I’m sorry, mister—um, Father,” Lilian muttered against her goblet.

Isaac added, “She didn’t bother me at all! We had a great talk on the way here. Seriously, you guys are the nicest, most polite people I’ve met since I left my village.”

Mr. Dusk’s lips curved into a smile, full and genuine. He raised his goblet towards the mercenary and said, “Likewise, dear boy.”

The two clinked their goblets together before each taking a sip. Isaac’s brows arched at the sweet, lively taste of his wine. It wasn’t the bitter taste he was used to, and it left him wanting more. He finished the whole thing in one long drink, wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeve.

“Ah! Wow, what is this stuff? It tastes amazing,” he said, checking the bottle once more for a label.

Waving a hand towards him, Mr. Dusk replied, “It’s just an old family recipe. Please, help yourself to as much as you like! There is plenty more in the cellar.”

Isaac poured himself another goblet. As he did, Mr. Dusk asked him, “Now, what was a young man like you doing wandering this road at night? Up to no good, are we?”

Isaac glanced up at him. The elf wore a sly smile, only teasing. Isaac was quick to defend himself regardless. “Nah, I was just working! Same as her.” He tipped his head towards Lilian, sitting silently with her gaze fixated on the table. “I’m s’posed to make a cargo delivery up to Sodergen. Lost a lot of time when a couple of ogres—”

A hiccup sneaked up on him. Isaac cleared his throat, shaking off a small dizzy spell, and continued, “Excuse me—when a couple of ogres jumped me yesterday. Right in the middle of the road, in the middle of the day! Can you believe that?”

“Mm, indeed I can,” answered the elf, swirling the wine in his goblet. “That road is haunted by sloppy, stupid pigs, I’m afraid. It’s good to be tucked away here in the trees. Such cretins never bother us here.”

“No kiddin’, I couln’t hardly find this place, even!” blurted Isaac, punctuating his laugh with a snort. He finished off his last sip of wine from his second helping, then slammed the goblet down on the table much too hard.

“Whoops! Sssorry,” he slurred. He lifted the goblet and lowered his head towards the tabletop, checking for damages. The woodgrain blurred together. Isaac involuntarily leaned forward until his chin hit the table. He pushed himself upright so hard that he nearly fell out of his seat.

“Woah,” he gasped. “Sorry. Um, sssorry, I just…I feel kinda…”

Mr. Dusk regarded him with a reserved smile and said, “I think you’ve had a little too much to drink. Perhaps you should lie down.”

Isaac’s goblet fell out of his hand, rolled off the table and clattered on the wood floor. He hardly noticed as he stood up, clutching the back of his chair for balance. He knees knocked, calves like jelly.

“Hey, I’m…I-I think I’m gonna…” Isaac began, trailing off as his eyes rolled back in his head. He hit the floor with a heavy thump.

*

A ring of candles flickered above. Isaac slowly blinked the fog out of his vision. He was lying on his back, staring up at a light fixture dangling from the ceiling. He turned his head to the left and saw a familiar door. The front door of the Dusk’s house, his boots sitting just beside it.

When his head lolled to the right, he saw Lilian leaning over him. He realized then that he was strapped to the very table he’d been sitting at before, ankles and wrists bound by leather straps. Even more troubling, he was stripped down to his underclothes and there was a deep, horizontal incision on his wrist. Lilian seemed deeply focused as she collected his dribbling blood into a wine bottle.

Isaac’s eyes grew wide, pupils dilating to pinpoints. He suddenly jerked his body and let out a scream. It was muffled by a cloth gag tied around his head, but still loud enough to startle Lilian, who jumped away from him with a yelp. The bottle slipped from her hands and shattered on the floor.

“Lilian? What was that noise?” Mr. Dusk called from elsewhere in the house, perhaps the washroom. Lilian’s eyes were those of a captured animal, darting frantically in every direction as she fumbled for an answer.

Isaac had questions of his own. He voiced them as loudly and aggressively as he could, though they were garbled completely by the gag. Lilian’s frantic eyes settled on him and she cupped his face in her hands. Tears welled in her eyes when she whispered, “I’m sorry, Isaac, I’m so sorry…!”

“Lilian! You are to answer me when I am speaking to you!” Mr. Dusk shouted. His tone was rough with anger. Isaac heard a door open and quick footsteps stomping towards the table.

Lilian backed away with a gasp. She shielded her face with her arms as her father approached, cowering into a corner. Isaac jumped at the sight of him. If it weren’t for his distinct voice, he never would have recognized him. Mr. Dusk’s skin had turned gray and mottled as a corpse, eyes glowing bright red, face marred by black veins and gnarled wrinkles.

Quick as a flash, Mr. Dusk pushed Lilian’s arms down with one hand and slapped her across the face with the other. Isaac’s brows shot up. Though the poisoned wine was still coursing through his system and he had no idea what was going on, he still found himself upset by what was transpiring before him.

Mr. Dusk jabbed a finger towards the broken bottle and shouted at his daughter, “What have you done here? Look how much food you’ve wasted with your carelessness!”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Dusk! Please forgive me, I didn’t mean—” Lilian cried, but her father cut her off with another slap, so forceful that it knocked her to the floor. The elfenne sobbed and pleaded for forgiveness, but he only picked her up by her hair and threw her against the wall.

“Spare me your tears, you worthless little bitch!” growled Mr. Dusk, looming over her like a storm cloud. “Gods help you, can you do _anything_ right?”

Isaac let out a muffled shout, directing his helpless rage towards Mr. Dusk. The elf whirled around to face him. His eyes were red and lifeless, glowing like the candle flames around him. He rumbled at Isaac, “I suppose you’ll just have to bleed out on this table then. No dungeon for you, you lucky swine. You may thank _her_ for that.” He briefly pointed his chin towards Lilian, whimpering on the floor behind him.

Isaac stared at her for a moment. Her appearance changed the moment she hit the wall, her flesh becoming just as gray and veinous as her father’s. They tricked Isaac with some kind of magical illusion. He was foolish enough to fall for it, and now they were apparently going to drain his blood dry.

“Vampires?” Isaac blurted behind his gag. The word was barely intelligible.

“You will not feed tonight,” Mr. Dusk told Lilian sharply. “You don’t deserve it! You are going to watch as I suck every last drop from this bloodbag, and you shall lie with your hunger for the rest of the night!”

Lilian nodded silently, her head tipped low. Isaac watched, baffled as Mr. Dusk crouched before her, plucked a kerchief from his pocket and began drying her tears with sudden tenderness.

“Let the pain be a lesson to you, dear girl. I am an intelligent and reasonable person, you know that. You know I’m not doing this out of cruelty, don’t you?” His tone, too, had shifted into something calm and kind, as if he hadn’t just thrown her around like a ragdoll.

Nodding again, Lilian sniffled, “It’s only because you love me.”

Mr. Dusk’s gray lips stretched into a smile, though his eyes remained just as lifeless above. He caressed her cheek and replied, “That’s right.”

Isaac regretted drinking so much. He regretted touching that wine at all. Lukas once told him, “No good deed goes unpunished,” and Isaac finally understood what he meant. He should have left Lilian in the dust the moment he saw her on the side of that dark road.

His heart raced as Mr. Dusk turned around and lowered his head down to the mercenary’s bleeding wrist. Isaac gnashed his teeth in pain and revulsion. The vampire’s tongue was as cold and wet as a dead fish, four sharp fangs piercing the swollen flesh around his wound.

He screamed into the void. No one would ever hear him behind the gag, inside this house, hidden in an obscure forest on this long, unassuming stretch of country road. Isaac had many close calls on this adventure, but this was it. He had failed his quest, his crew, and himself.

His vision blurred again, dizziness consuming him. His eyes fluttered closed, but only for a moment until a sound jolted him back to the waking world. Mr. Dusk’s back lurched. He sputtered blood all over the table with each ragged cough. His back hit the wall when he staggered away, gasping as he clawed at his torso.

The vampire clutched his chest with one hand and his belly with the other, claws piercing through his suit. He let out a long, agonized howl before a gush of black ooze silenced him. It spilled from his mouth and splattered on the floor between his quivering legs.

“Mr. Dusk! Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh, are you alright?” Lilian panicked. She stood up, but she did not know what to do. She threw her hands over her mouth and shrieked helplessly as her so-called “father” was consumed by violent convulsions. His red eyes rolled back, black ooze still dribbling from his mouth. He slid down the wall and fell into a heap on the floorboards, shaking like a leaf in the wind.

Isaac stared at the scene before him, eyes blown wide. Even in his haze, he remembered his encounter with the lich in the skorpius’ tomb all those years ago. Something similar happened the last time some fiend tried to drain the life from him.

Lilian dropped to her knees by Mr. Dusk’s side, desperately trying to tend to him. She patted his face, shook him by the shoulders, begged him to get up, but it seemed nothing could save him from the throes of his illness. Isaac’s blood had poisoned him somehow, just like his soul had poisoned the lich.

At a loss, she stood up and stormed towards the table. She ripped the gag off his face and sobbed, “W-what’s wrong with him? What did you do?”

“What did _you_ do?” Isaac shouted back, sweeping his gaze around at his limbs. “What is all this? You tricked me, Lilian! How do you people live with yourselves?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” she cried, barely coherent through her tears and panic. “I-I-I didn’t—I didn’t want to hurt you! I like you! I really wanted to be friends, I just—we have to feed, I’m sorry…!”

She blathered and sniveled on as Isaac tugged at his binds. Finally he interrupted her and demanded, “Just shut up and untie me!”

“I can’t! M-my father will be so angry—”

“Cut the shit, I know he’s not your father! Now untie me so I can help him!” he shouted, voice cracking like a clay pot.

With a dutiful nod, Lilian started undoing his binds. Her shaking hands struggled, but before long, Isaac was sitting upright on the table. A dizzy spell planted him right back down when he tried to stand. He looked at his bleeding wrist and was shocked by the amount of blood on the floor.

“I-I’m not lying,” Lilian told him, her voice quaking and pathetic. “I can’t lie! H-he is my father—my night-father! I was born of his fang! Please, I love him! You have to save him, please, please!”

Isaac finally managed to stand. He stooped briefly to snatch the kerchief in Mr. Dusk’s pocket and made a tourniquet of it. He tied it around his wrist using his opposite hand and his teeth. Then he drew his leg back and delivered a swift, barefooted kick to the elf’s head.

“No!” shrieked Lilian. She threw herself over Mr. Dusk to protect him, but Isaac was already rushing towards the door.

He tried to slip on his boots, but they were not where he left them. “Where’s my stuff?” he asked.

“In the washroom! Please, don’t let him die! Save him, please, I love him…!” Lilian’s sobs faded as Isaac disappeared into the washroom. Sure enough, his boots were sitting on the counter with his leather armor, his scythe leaning against the wall.

He hastily dressed and returned to the sitting room, scythe in hand. He looked down at Mr. Dusk. The vampire was not breathing, but that didn’t mean he was dead. Isaac learned too much from his adventure Zeffer Vengelor to be fooled.

His gaze shifted to Lilian, sobbing over top of him. “How can you possibly love this guy?” he snapped. “What’s wrong with you?”

Lilian wailed, “My whole family was murdered! Mr. Dusk saved me! He’s all I have! He loves me and he takes good care of me, I swear to you! You must help him, please!”

The harsh wrinkles in Isaac’s brow softened ever so slightly. He watched her agonize for a moment more, then said, “You can’t lie. You really believe all this, don’t you?”

“Yes! Please…!” she nearly shrieked.

Isaac’s elbows straightened, lowering the scythe. He brought a hand to his face and pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew he should slit Mr. Dusk’s throat and end his wretched existence. He should probably kill Lilian too, if only to end her misery. He couldn’t find it in himself to be angry with her. She was just as much a victim in this mess as he was.

The world would be better off with these two in the ground. However, Zeffer’s words lingered in the back of his mind. During their time together, he told Isaac that he could be mortal again if only he could find the one who turned him. He said he would rip out his night-mother’s heart and drain its energy, and then his curse would be broken.

If Mr. Dusk was Lilian’s “night-father”, if she was truly “born of his fang”, then…

“I won’t kill him,” decided Isaac, placing his scythe back in its harness. Lilian looked up at him, red eyes spilling over with tears. He continued, “But I won’t help him either. If he’s the one who turned you into a vampire, then he’s the only one who can turn you back.”

He opened the front door and stepped through the threshold. Before he closed it behind him, he told Lilian, “Here’s your chance. You know what to do,” and then he was gone.

*

The cart was sitting right where Isaac left it when he exited the cottage. Shadow, however, was not.

He shoved his fingers in his mouth and whistled, high and sharp. “Shadow! Come on, girl! Where’d you get to?” he called. Not long after, he heard a heavy rustling in the thicket. Shadow exploded out in a flurry of leaves and stopped in front of him, greeting him with a joyful crow.

Her beak was covered in dried blood. Isaac decided not to ask questions as he fastened her back to the cart and climbed towards her saddle. His muscles were so weak, his head so foggy that he slipped off twice. He stood beside her, panting as he clutched her harness.

“Alright. One…two…three!” he whispered, then hauled himself back up on three. He didn’t make it. He slipped back down and hit the grass with a frustrated grunt. The Dusks must have taken more blood than he thought. His head was swimming like the hydriads in the river.

Isaac sat there for some time, resting his head between his knees. He tried not to think about the things he’d seen in that cottage. Stepping outside was like stepping into another world entirely. The air was cool, the birds were just starting to sing, and the first rays of sun were beaming through the canopy.

Shadow curved her neck around and nudged Isaac with her bloody beak, rumbling inquisitively. He didn’t move, so she took initiative and pinched the back of his chestplate in her beak, lifting him into the air. She placed him on her saddle and stood up on her own, making her way down the road to Sodergen.

The mercenary slumped against her neck with a sigh, burying his face in her soft, black feathers. His eyelids fell closed. “Good birdie…” he mumbled, and allowed Shadow to set the pace on their journey.

She dragged the cart over hills upon hills, through small villages, over farmland and around forests. The elevation rose higher the closer they got to Sodergen. Another day passed, surprisingly uneventful compared the last two. Isaac made camp in the wilderness, then packed up and moved on before sunrise.

He saw the warm lights of Sodergen just on the horizon. They nearly brought tears to his eyes. The city sat atop a great hill forested with short, scrubby conifers and bushes. It overlooked the sea to the east and the imposing Shrieking Mountains in every other direction.

Isaac could even see Frostbite Crag peeking over the hills. From such an elevation, he could also see the Forest of Refuge below. It brought him comfort knowing his village was within eye’s reach. He urged Shadow to hurry through the streets as he searched for the address on his contract.

Sodergen was a large city that sprawled along the coast and up the hills. Its wooden architecture had been blasted by centuries of wind and sand, giving every street a rough, run-down look. But looks were deceiving, for Evan told Isaac that this was one of the wealthier Folkvar territories. The hundreds of ships floating in the harbor were a testament to its bustling economy.

At long last, Isaac found his client. A tall, fair-haired human man stood outside a local tavern. He looked much like any other coastal Folkvaran, wearing dirty blue-collar clothes with his big beard all tied in braids.

“Well, about damn time ya showed up! Gods, I’ve been waitin’ fer ages! ” the man greeted with a scowl on his haggard face.

Isaac hopped off Shadow’s back and handed him the contract, offering a weary apology, “Sorry about that, sir. I had a really rough time getting—”

“Ah, shut it! I don’t wanna hear no excuses outta ya! Back in my day, folks did their jobs ‘n did ‘em right, and there wasn’t no excuses fer nothin’!” the man bellowed, Isaac wincing as flecks of spittle flew onto his face.

He muttered something about “kids these days” as he walked a full circle around the cart. Then he turned to Isaac and queried, “Where’s the horse? My sister loaned ya a horse, now what’d ya do with it?”

Isaac sucked a sharp breath through his teeth, swiping at the back of his neck as he explained, “Uh, yeah, the horse kind of… _died_. Total act of nature. I apologize for that, sir.”

“Oh, fer gods’ sakes!” The man slapped a hand against his forehead. Then he pointed to the cart and shouted, “And the cart! Look at the state of it! Shite, kid, it looks like ya drove it through Lostland and back!”

“I’m very sorry, sir, but—”

“Look at this now, the cargo’s all busted up too! All these scratches here, this side’s covered in dirt, the corner’s broken off up there…” With a shake of his head, the client tossed the contract on the ground. “This is outrageous! Ya better hope that glassware didn’t break or I’ll break my foot on yer ass!”

Isaac’s jaw dropped. Glassware? He’d been transporting fragile, breakable _glassware_ this whole time? Of course, he reasoned, glancing at the tavern ahead. He’d be shocked if any of it survived after all the mishaps he’d left in his wake.

Either way, the burden of the cargo was finally lifted. The flight home would be much faster and easier than the slog here.

*

Shadow touched down in Drifter’s Hollow sometime that evening. Isaac freed her from her harness, hanging it up in the barn before trudging into Evan’s house on sore legs. What a trip. He couldn’t wait to shake off his filthy armor, run a hot bath, and sleep off all the hardship he endured.

But first, he had to speak with Evan.

He found the captain in the sitting room, relaxing with a book as he usually was this time of day. Evan greeted him with a smile and said, “Hey there, I’m glad you’re back! I was getting worried about you. How’d the job go?”

“ _Oh my god_ …” Isaac groaned, dragging his palms down his face. He collapsed in the adjacent chair. Fishing through his pocket, he leaned forward and slapped two gold coins on the table. “I busted my butt for days and _this_ is what I have to show for it. Two shiny gold pieces.”

He tossed his hands in the air and exclaimed, “I almost died, Evan! Like, more than once! I kept having problems, everyone and their mother was trying to mess with me, I’m sore, I’m exhausted, and at the end of it all I got completely screwed over! I can’t believe this!”

Isaac expected a few words of sympathy, but all Evan offered was a big, hearty laugh. Isaac stared at him, betrayal written all over his sour face. Evan tossed his book on the table and said, “Welcome to adulthood, my friend.”

“It’s not funny!” Isaac pouted.

Evan’s laugh quieted to a chuckle. He cleared his throat and finally coughed up some sympathy, “I’m sorry you had a hard time. I take it there were some damages along the way…?”

“The whole shipment got destroyed except for three steins. I left Shadow alone too long and she killed the horse, then some ogres jumped me and broke the cart. I kept getting distracted by traders and pretty girls and stupid things and…” Isaac shook his head. “I screwed up, big time. I feel like an idiot.”

“Well, thank the gods you’re alive. That’s all that matters,” Evan told him, smiling fondly. Isaac glanced up at him. There wasn’t a shred of disappointment on his face, not like he expected. Evan continued, “You know, I was about your age when I ran my first contract. Someone hired me to get their mother’s ring back from some band of lowlifes outside Taybiya.”

Isaac’s brows arched. “Did you get it back?” he asked.

“I did,” Evan answered, “I spent two days wandering through the godforsaken forest trying to find those cretins, and they did not give up that ring peacefully. Seven men jumped me at once the moment I confronted them. I walked away from that battle aching something fierce. It was the most frightening fight of my life, but somehow I survived. Then on the way back to my client, I tripped over my own peg leg and dropped the ring into a gutter.”

He chuckled again, shaking his head. “I jumped into the sewers and waded through filth all afternoon to find it.”

“Ew, seriously? No gold is worth that, Evan!”

“You’re right. But at that point, it wasn’t about the gold anymore. It was the principle of the thing! I already came so far and suffered through so much, I refused to let misfortune get the best of me!”

“So, did you find it?”

Evan sighed, “No. I eventually gave up and returned to my client with empty hands and no dignity. I just stood there, reeking of shit while this old man berated me for my failures, and then I spent the night sleeping outside because I could not afford an inn room.”

“Ouch…” Isaac cringed. After a pause, he added, “Okay, I won’t give you grief about the septic anymore. That’s brutal.”

“My point is,” Evan began, “you have nothing to be ashamed of. You never gave up, no matter how rough things got. You stuck to your values, you pressed on, and you finished the job even knowing it would not be worth your time. I’m very proud of you. I would be happy to offer you more contracts in the future.”

“Really?” Isaac blurted.

“Well, you’ve got to furnish that house of yours somehow…”

Isaac sunk down in his chair, feeling as if his bones had just liquefied. All the weight of the journey rolled off his shoulders in that moment. His voice was beyond fatigued when he said, “I promise, I won’t screw up like this again. If nothing else, at least I learned a lot of stuff while I was gone. I learned it all the _hard_ way, but…”

“We’re two of a kind, friend. Some of us just have to eat the consequences before the lesson sinks in.” Evan picked up his book again. “I saved you some leftovers in the kitchen. You’re welcome to the whole pot if you’d like.”

Only then did Isaac realize how hungry he was. His stomach rumbled as if on queue. Rising to his aching feet, he replied, “Thanks. I guess I’ll have to keep mooching off you for a while, huh?”

“You’re my kid, Isaac. No matter what happens, my home will always be your home.”

Isaac made his way to the kitchen, then stopped in the doorway. He turned back to Evan with a grin and said, “I’ll grab the soap while I’m in there so you can clean out that filthy mouth of yours. All this cussin’ in the house—shame on you, young man!”

Evan grinned back. “That was always my mother’s rule,” he explained. “She didn’t allow that kind of language in the house because that’s where the women and children are. I don’t see any women _or_ children around. Do you?”

“I see one man-child,” Isaac teased. Evan chucked his paperback at him. It missed, hitting the doorframe as Isaac ducked into the kitchen with a snicker.

“So do I, you brat!” Evan yelled.

*

A couple quiet days passed in Drifter’s Hollow. Six unassuming strangers made their way into town from the northern road, passing straight through the village and down to the Freelance Good Guys’ compound.

Evan was hard at work in his office when they opened his door and stepped inside. Before him stood a roshava, two ogres, and three maenads. “We’re back, Mr. Atlas,” said the roshava, extending one of her bottom palms to him. “Now pay up.”

Reaching under his desk, Evan retrieved a fat sack of gold and dropped it in her palm. “Thank you all kindly for your service,” he said. “How did he do?”

She waved her top hand and reported, “Aw, he did great! I thought for sure I had him! Either he knew the coins were fake or he’s got a real strong conscience on him. Smart boy either way.”

“He fought like a beast,” added one of the ogres. “We were completely destroying him and he _still_ wouldn’t back down.”

The other ogre said, “Yeah, he almost got the jump on us with that scythe and I had to smack ‘im pretty hard. Felt bad about it. Hope he’s okay, seems like a nice kid.”

“Don’t worry about it. A few cuts and bruises, but he’ll pull through,” Evan assured him. His gaze shifted to the maenads and he asked, “What about you three? Did you manage to pull him off track?”

With a roll of her eyes, one of the nymphs replied, “Ugh, he barely gave us the time of day!”

“He slapped us down like dogs!” said another.

“Tossed us away like rotten fruit! I’ve never felt so undesirable!” wailed the third. Her sister comforted her with a pat on the back.

Evan offered a sympathetic little smile. “I’m sorry he hurt your feelings, ladies. But that’s exactly what I expect of him when he’s on the clock. Sounds to me like he did everything the way he’s supposed to.”

“He sure did! You should promote that little rascal, he did a damn good job!” raved the roshavan trader.

“Well, of course he did,” said Evan. “He’s a damn Good Guy.”

**END**

**Author's Note:**

> Our little Isaac is growing up!
> 
> And for the record...no, this isn't the last we'll see of Lilian. What will become of her now? Subscribe to the series and find out! More stories are on the way! Please leave a kudos if you liked it, and any feedback is very much appreciated. If you noticed any mistakes please let me know. Thank you for reading!


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